


Reminiscence

by lionofwrath



Series: Fall [5]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Consensual Sex, Coping, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More Comfort, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Vague plot set-up, see authors' notes for which chapters have which tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:27:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionofwrath/pseuds/lionofwrath
Summary: The BSAA finds some old Umbrella files and as a result Wesker is forced to deal with his worst memories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t listed rape\non-con as a major warning only because it doesn’t occur in the present and it’s not overly described.  
> I’ve split this up into chapters because the first chapter has some set-up for a later story I’m planning and I didn’t want to blindside anyone with the shift from plot to trauma. So.  
> First chapter is plot, and references to rape. Second chapter has a major panic attack and discussion of trauma\rape. Third chapter is mostly comfort and a consensual sex scene.

Albert shot the zombie dog contemptuously, not bothering to move as it tripped, dying, and skidded to a stop at his feet. He kicked it away, striding forwards to punch another one as it leaped at him, his reflexes faster than its. Wherever this latest batch had come from they were quite frankly uninspired and he was almost disappointed at the lack of challenge. They were, however, numerous, and not just the ubiquitous dogs and human zombies but hunters and chimeras too. He hadn’t seen very many of those lately, most BOW development was focussed on larger creatures now. Albert targeted those as he spotted them anyway, they were at least slightly more dangerous and he did enjoy tearing them apart.

What had started as a routine investigation by another agent had quickly turned into an all-out war. The entire docks district of the city had been quarantined and every available BSAA member pulled in to help suppress the outbreak. His partners had already headed back to their makeshift base, but he didn’t tire as easily as a normal human and was pulling a double shift.

A noise from his left caught his interest and he pulled aside a heavy crate, barely catching a glimpse of frightened brown eyes before the recruit squeaked in fear and shot him point-blank in the shoulder. Albert swore, more in anger than pain, forcing the barrel towards the ceiling before the kid got another hit off, his other hand slamming the recruit’s head back against the wall behind him to daze him. He would have left him there except that he recognised the recruit from the new batch that Chris had just trained. Albert hesitated, recalling how much Chris had enjoyed teaching them, his worry and pride as he sent them off on their first missions. A hunter chittered behind him and he spun, deflecting its claws with his forearm and ripping its head off in retaliation. He didn’t have time to debate himself about what to do and he snarled unhappily as he made his decision.

The kid had slumped down the wall and he grabbed the front of his vest, dragging him back to regroup with the squad he had been assigned to. He dumped the recruit unceremoniously at the feet of one of the medics. She glanced down at the kid.

‘I had to knock him out after he shot me.’ Albert informed her.

‘Oh my god.’ Melissa leaned down to check the recruit’s pulse.

‘I didn’t kill him.’ He growled, almost offended that she assumed he had.

‘I… appreciate that, Albert.’ She managed a smile.

They were, he supposed that friends might actually be correct, or at least she was one of the few people in the BSAA who wasn’t completely nervous around him and\or wanted to kill him. She’d warmed up to him after they’d had a particularly lively discussion about their shared interest in viruses, during which she had been surprisingly unhorrified by his point of view, which was a refreshing change from the way most of the BSAA saw him. 

He left the recruit with her, finding Chris leaning against a crate and dropping down next to him.

‘Hey.’ Chris waved a hand vaguely in greeting. Despite both of them being sweaty and bloody, Chris tugged him in for a rough kiss. A couple people gasped, and Albert almost sighed. Half the BSAA knew about their relationship by now but the other half never seemed to believe it until they saw some evidence first-hand. Chris broke the kiss off to slump tiredly back against the crate. ‘Did I really see you bring one of our wounded back alive?’

Albert glared down a few people staring at them then shrugged noncommittally. ‘He was one of your trainees. Though you didn’t do a very good job, he shot me.’

‘Generally red eyes indicate a hostile.’ Chris said defensively. ‘And you’re kinda scary when you get riled up.’

Albert laughed, enjoying the uncomfortable glances some of the people standing around gave him at the sound.

‘Are you ok?’

‘It was only a bullet.’ Albert nudged off the hand Chris was running over his leg as he searched for wounds.

‘I guess. Thanks for rescuing the kid.’ Chris passed him a water bottle and he pulled off his gloves before taking it. ‘Any idea what the hell is going on?’

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, trying to sort through the information he’d picked up while fighting. ‘Their design is inferior. As if someone’s started from scratch from the original version.’ Albert frowned, wondering if he’d inadvertently figured out a clue in the mystery.

Jill joined them, throwing a handful of granola bars in Chris’ lap. ‘I saw you get back.’ She sat down facing them.

‘Thanks, Jill.’ Chris glanced at the wrappers, then gave both him and Jill a few. Their conversation stalled as they ate.

‘So, you were talking about the BOWs?’

‘Yeah.’ Chris nodded at her then turned to Albert, grimacing. ‘Why would someone bother making these? There’s hardly going to be a market for them, even if there are thousands of them.’

‘I have no idea.’ He leaned his head back against the crate, closing his eyes, and considering Chris’ question. It was a good one, straight to the point that was bothering him, what was the possible benefit of making such low-quality BOWs, even mass-produced ones.

‘Tired?’ Chris asked.

He grunted an affirmative, mind still puzzling over the problem of the BOWs. Chris took the noise as an invitation to rest his head on Albert’s shoulder.

‘I don’t think we’ll have to go out again.’ Jill reassured them. ‘Latest reports sound like they’re almost all dead.’

‘Finally.’ Chris muttered.

Albert could only agree, even he had a limit on how much mindless killing he could stand.

 

It hadn’t taken long to examine the corpses of the BOWs and determine that they were what he had suspected, throwbacks to the variants that had first been designed in Raccoon City. Albert didn’t know what it meant and he didn’t like the implication that someone had gotten hold of the original research. Which was why he was headed back to see his partners, who were already looking through the boxes of things that had been confiscated from the warehouse complex.

He regretted it as he entered to find most of the floor and desk space taken up by boxes. ‘Why are we responsible for looking through all of this?’ Albert stared at the boxes on his desk in distaste, wondering if he could find an excuse to go back to the labs and dissect things.

‘Because we’re the resident experts in… um…’ Chris was holding what appeared to be a charred plastic bowl.

‘Yes, Chris?’ Albert drawled scornfully.

‘Umbrella.’ Chris said, giving him an irritated look as he pulled out another burned bowl from the box.

Albert scoffed to show his opinion on that, watching as Jill seemed to have better luck, her box at least contained some kind of printed material.

‘What is all this crap?’ Chris asked rhetorically, staring blankly into another box before closing it back up. Albert wondered what was in it, but Chris’ rather concerned expression told him that maybe he didn’t want to know.

‘This one seems to be full of old Umbrella files.’ Jill searched through hers.

‘That might explain the primitive BOWs.’ Albert glanced at her, curiosity piqued.

‘I don’t think so.’ Jill shuffled through it then pulled something out. ‘The hell? Is this a yearbook?’ She opened it, flipping through a couple pages, then snickered loudly. ‘Oh my god, Wesker, you’re adorable.’

‘What?’ He snarled, almost colliding with Chris as he also ran over to look. Jill held the book out, showing them the picture labelled with his name. It was definitely him, they’d always made him take his sunglasses off for official pictures and his eyes were narrowed in a sullen glare, the expression on his face more a grimace than a smile.

‘How old were you?’ Chris asked, trying to peer at the cover of the book.

‘Seventeen, eighteen.’ Albert shrugged uncomfortably, there were certain things that had happened during those years that he really didn’t want to think about.

‘Were you voted most likely to become a supervillain?’ Jill asked as she flipped the page, no doubt hoping to find more pictures.

He was spared from replying as she unfortunately found another photo. This one was of him and Will, a candid shot of them performing some kind of experiment, and he was almost surprised that he looked so happy in this one.

‘You’re smiling.’ Chris chuckled in delight. ‘You’re so cute.’

Albert rolled his eyes. ‘You’ve seen me smile before, Chris.’

‘And you’re still cute.’ Chris pulled him into a quick kiss behind the back of Jill’s head and she sighed in annoyance at being squished.

‘You do know he’s probably happy because they’re doing something horrible. I’m surprised you’re not doing an experiment on some poor person.’ Jill said caustically.

‘Those pictures weren’t deemed yearbook appropriate.’ Albert casually retorted. He found it strangely enjoyable to trade barbs with her, and he suspected that she felt the same. Chris ignored them both, he had learned to stay out of their verbal sparring, and Albert knew he was simply relieved that they weren’t really at each other’s throats anymore.

‘That’s Birkin? Will?’ Chris asked, taking a better look at the photo.

‘Yes.’ He wondered what Chris thought of the man, Albert hadn’t talked much about him.

Jill flipped through a few more pages, obviously hoping to find something incriminating or embarrassing. She paused on the instructors for a moment and Albert glanced over them without thinking.

He didn’t even really recognise the man at first, his eyes skimming over the picture before unwillingly taking a second look, but then his face wasn’t the part of him that Albert was most intimately familiar with. The hysterical thought that if it had been a picture of his cock the man would have been instantly recognisable raced through his head, nausea rising at the memory. He couldn’t breathe, staring transfixed at the photo of the man who had raped him, he looked so unassumingly mild compared to the vicious, sadistic monster he actually was. The picture stared back at him, seeming to turn cold and cruel now that he remembered who the man was, leering at him as if he was seventeen again, naked, and helpless, and terrified.

‘Enough.’ Albert snarled, snapping the book closed so fast he almost caught Jill’s fingers. She yelped a curse at him as he pulled it away from her. ‘We have real work to do.’

Chris trailed him back to his desk. ‘Al?’

‘Chris.’ He glared up at Chris, knowing he could feel it through the sunglasses. Chris frowned but went back to his own desk.

Albert put a hand on the yearbook, pressing down hard when he realised he was trembling. The man was dead, Albert reminded himself, he had killed him and the bastard would never touch him again. It didn’t really help, and after a few minutes of attempting his breathing exercises he gave up and went to the washroom. He locked the door behind him and then dropped to his knees and threw up.

By the time his stomach was empty he was shaking and he curled up against the wall, resting his head on his knees. It took all his energy to keep breathing, to remind himself that it wasn’t happening again. Eventually his stomach settled and he left the stall. His reflection in the mirror caught his attention, he almost thought he should look different, as if his pain had branded him in an obvious way but he was exactly the same. Albert pulled a paper cup out of the dispenser, rinsing his mouth out, gritting his teeth against the memories. He wasn’t young and vulnerable anymore, he had enough physical power that no one would ever be able to hurt him like that again. The words helped and he repeated them, reassuring himself that they were true.

When he got back the yearbook was gone from his desk, but he didn’t care enough to figure out which of his partners was the culprit as long as he didn’t have to see that picture anymore. He slumped down in his chair, not even seeing the file box in front of him.

 

He was trapped in the room with something huge. Albert could hear it sniffing around, its claws clicking against the desk. The room was so bright his eyes stung with tears, half-blind in the light. But he knew it could see him, that it was coming for him. He scrabbled at the door, trying to get the lock undone but it wouldn’t budge. The thing made a horrible grunting laugh and he bit back a terrified sob, cringing against the floor. He buried his head in his arms, knowing he was helpless, that the thing was going to get him. It hit him from behind, landing heavily on top of him and he screamed desperately.

‘Albert!’

His eyes snapped open to the dark shape of someone hovering over him, and he almost screamed again, caught in the helpless fear of his nightmare. Or maybe he was still having a nightmare. The person touched him and he flinched away, rolling out of bed to hit the floor, the impact clearing his head slightly.

‘Al?’

Albert glanced up into Chris’ worried face, recognising him this time but he didn’t know what to say, instead fleeing into the bathroom. He locked the door, ignoring the noise outside, turning to stare at himself in the mirror. Orange slitted eyes stared back at him, reminding him what he was, that he was powerful.

‘Al?’ Chris knocked on the door.

He pointedly ignored it, turning the shower on and then he simply stood under the water, letting it run down his skin, focussing on his breathing. With his fingers he traced the edges of the shower tiles, the straight lines and right angles soothing, reciting the gene sequence of the T-Virus in his head to calm himself.

Chris hadn’t kicked the door in but when he opened it Chris was standing directly outside the bathroom, so close that he was almost in the doorway, fear and worry etched across his features. ‘Are you ok?’

‘It was just a nightmare.’ Both of them knew he hadn't really answered the question but he was grateful when Chris let it slide.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘No.’ He snapped, tensing, he had worked hard to bring his emotions back under control and he didn’t want to bring it all up again.

Chris nodded, even though he looked unhappy at Albert’s reticence. ‘Ok.’ He rubbed a hand through his messy hair, then headed towards the bed, throwing Albert a glance over his shoulder. ‘Come back to bed?’

Albert hesitated as Chris climbed in, lying facing the vacant side. He didn’t know what he wanted, this wasn’t the only nightmare he’d had since he started sleeping with Chris, but it was the first time he’d actually woken Chris.

Slowly he followed, watching Chris watch him as he inched closer. Chris cautiously put a hand on his forearm, running it up and across his back as he pressed against Chris. He relaxed when he didn’t panic at the touch, kissing Chris just to breathe him in, to reassure himself, while Chris’ hand rubbed over his back soothingly.

 

The boxes of old Umbrella artifacts continued to be brought in. Albert had to fend off panic attacks while awake and nightmares while he tried to sleep. Chris knew something was wrong but he refused to talk about it, naively hoping that if he kept fighting the memories they would go away. He tried to focus on determining why someone would go to the trouble of tracking down and collecting all of this but each time they opened a new box he tensed. Even innocuous items were enough to put him on edge, anticipating the moment he would recognise something.

‘I guess someone really misses Umbrella. I think half this stuff was dug out of the ruins of their facilities.’ Chris moved the box he had been looking into off his desk.

‘I think you’re right, most of it’s burned or melted.’ Jill waved whatever was in her hand in demonstration. ‘It’s more like memorabilia than any kind of proper research documentation.’

‘Could it be someone who worked for Umbrella? Nostalgic for the old days?’ Chris asked. Albert assumed the question was rhetorical until Chris said his name. ‘Al?’

‘I didn’t know everyone personally.’ But he considered the idea, glad of the distraction from his own thoughts. ‘Possibly, but actually going to the trouble of making BOWs? We must be missing something.’


	2. Chapter 2

‘There’s more?’ Chris asked, aghast at the man struggling into their office with yet more file boxes.

Jill leaped up as the man staggered, quickly trying to clear a space on her desk.

Albert saw it happen in slow-motion, the man carrying the boxes hitting the edge of Jill’s desk, tipping them as she reached out to help. The boxes clipped a pen holder on her desk, the entire thing tumbling off. He watched it fall, the pens flying out, and he knew he was fast enough to catch it, to stop it from hitting the ground but he was frozen in place. It landed with a crack that made him flinch violently, the sound ringing in his ears, and he would have screamed if he hadn’t stopped breathing already. The pens rolled across the floor and he bit his lip until he tasted blood, hugging himself, digging his fingers into his arms until it hurt, but he couldn’t stop shaking. His partners didn’t notice, they were talking to the other man, but the words didn’t make any sense. He knew he couldn’t have a flashback here, he wasn’t safe, he was going to be hurt, and he stood up too fast, swallowing hard against the sick, dizzy feeling.

Run. Albert ran, not even sure where he was going, feeling like he was being chased by his memories but he had to fight them back because he wasn’t safe here. He found himself in front of the door of the apartment he shared with Chris, somehow managing to get the key in the door and lock it behind him before collapsing in a shaking ball on the floor.

‘Fuck.’ He snarled, wishing swearing was enough to fix what was wrong. ‘Fuck.’ Albert threw his sunglasses across the room, hearing them shatter as they hit the wall. He tangled his fingers into his hair, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes until he saw shapes in the darkness. Shapes that looked like they were reaching for him and he dropped his hands to open his eyes again.

It was a mistake, the floor was hard under his hands and knees. He’d been in this position so many times and he put his head down as if he could prevent what was coming.

When his head wasn’t immediately forced back up he regained some awareness. He had to focus on his breathing, on his coping mechanisms. Basics like what year it was. ‘19-’ Shit, he knew that wasn’t right, couldn’t remember what came after, couldn’t remember how old he was.

He was on his knees in a room that smelled like blood and sex, pens scattered across the floor…

‘No.’ Albert hissed. He tried to remember DNA sequences instead, his mind coming up blank.

The desk was rough under his cheek, his fingers aching as he gripped the wood, his own sobbing breaths not quite loud enough to drown out the grunts of pleasure from the man on top of him. No. The word caught in his throat, he wasn’t allowed to say no, he had agreed to this. Hands dug into his hips, the edge of the desk bruising his legs with each sharp thrust, a wet trickle of blood running down the inside of his thigh. Time lost all meaning, he was trapped here forever, and it hurt so much and he just wanted it to stop, please stop…

He was lying on the floor, curled up so tightly his muscles ached, and he trembled as he opened his eyes, trying to make sense of reality. The furniture was familiar, Chris’ apartment, his home, safety. Except he could feel that bastard touching him, inside him. He stumbled to the bathroom, tripping over his clothes in his haste to get them off, leaving them scattered carelessly on the floor. His throat felt raw, the metallic tang of his own blood not quite covering the remembered taste of semen, making him sick enough that he threw up.

The shower was too hot, burning his skin but the pain was more bearable than his memories. Albert tipped his head back, letting the water burn his mouth clean too. He could still feel unwanted hands on him, and he clawed at his skin until he was bleeding, the present pain finally more real than the past. Whimpering softly, he dropped to his knees, watching the swirl of water and blood run down the drain as he fought to regain control. The worst part wasn’t the pain or the fear, it was the helplessness, knowing that he was going to be hurt over and over and there was nothing he could do to stop it. When he could finally convince himself to stop digging his fingernails into his skin he turned the water off, grabbing a towel and sitting on the floor instead. He stared at the wall vacantly, his mind retreating from the pain.

‘Al? Albert!’

The panicked shout made him raise him head in dull curiosity. A man skidded into the bathroom, the sudden movement making him cringe and press himself back into the wall, his breathing too fast again.

‘Al?’ The voice was softer, closer to him.

The nickname roused him, very few people called him by that and his mind latched onto the most likely person. ‘Will?’

‘No, it’s Chris.’

‘Chris.’ He dared to raise his head to confirm, meeting Chris’ worried eyes. The sick humiliation at Chris finding him in this state was enough to make him nauseous again. There was nothing left to throw up and he braced his arms on the toilet seat, resting his head on them as he spat up bile. Albert almost couldn’t look back up, scared of both the possibility that Chris had left him and that he was still here.

‘Al?’

He shuddered, glancing sideways at Chris. A glass of water was being held out to him and he took it, his hands shaking so badly he spilled some of it. He managed to drink the rest, staring blankly at the empty glass when he was done. Chris took it from him gently, his hands enticingly warm and he unconsciously slid closer, pressing into Chris in an attempt to ease his shivering.

‘It’s ok, you’re safe.’ Chris hugged him carefully. He shuddered in relief that Chris’ touch wasn’t automatically terrifying, instinctively clinging to him. ‘Shit, you’re freezing. Let’s get you dressed and into bed.’ He nodded against Chris’ shoulder, utterly exhausted.

‘Al?’

Albert blinked, looking up to see Chris handing him a pile of clothes. He didn’t even remember walking into the bedroom or sitting down. Putting clothes on took more energy than he could summon and he barely managed to dress before he collapsed on the bed, curling up on one side.

The bed moved as Chris lay down next to him. ‘Do you want me to hold you?’

‘Yes.’ He whispered, upset and tired, and Chris made him feel safe. Chris shifted behind him, putting an arm around Albert and resting his head against his back. The warmth and comfort was enough to relax him.

 

Albert woke up screaming from a dream he couldn’t remember, feeling helpless and scared again, almost running back to the bathroom to take another shower. He stood under the water, letting it erase the memories of being touched until he had calmed. Then he stared at himself in the mirror, at his unnatural eyes. Reminding himself that he wasn’t a scared teenager anymore, that he was more than capable of killing anyone who touched him. He had killed the man who had raped him.

When he felt steady enough to face Chris he opened the door.

Chris paused in his pacing, giving him a concerned once over. ‘I won’t ask for details.’ Chris promised, hesitating before asking. ‘But, yesterday, that was a panic attack?’

‘Yes.’ Albert bit the word off.

‘Have you had one before?’

‘Yes.’

‘Since we’ve been together?’ Worry was written plainly across Chris’ face.

‘I’m good at hiding them.’ He smiled bitterly. ‘Not this time, but usually.’

‘God, Al, how could you not tell me?’ Chris reached out, instantly freezing when Albert flinched away. He scrubbed his hand through his hair instead. ‘You’ve been having nightmares. This is connected?’

Albert nodded shortly, wary of Chris making another sudden movement towards him.

‘Do you know what triggered it?’

‘Yes.’ He dug his fingers into his thigh, trying to banish the images.

‘Is this-’ Chris hesitated. ‘-about the experiments?’

Albert shook his head, inexplicably upset when Chris seemed relieved at the negative answer, as if he thought that was the worst thing it could be. At least the experiments he didn’t remember most of, and the distorted flashes he did were mostly just pain without much detail. Unlike being raped, where the details were the clearest part. Strange how different two traumatic events could be from each other, even though both had occurred so frequently that they had become a kind of horrible routine.

Chris made an appreciated effort to change the subject. ‘Do you want something to eat?’

‘No.’

Chris ignored him, heading out of the bedroom. Albert reluctantly followed, idly noting that it was dark outside now, but Chris had kept the indoor lights dim out of consideration for him.

By the time he’d made it into the kitchen Chris was pulling pancake mix out of a cupboard, the pan already heating. Albert wondered if it was a deliberate attempt to remind him of the first night they had spent together here or if Chris had just chosen something easy to make. He almost hated Chris for being so kind to him when he felt so utterly pathetic, but he also longed for that kindness, to have someone that cared that he was hurting.

‘Hey.’ Chris smiled at him.

Albert grunted in response, about to get himself some coffee before changing his mind and raiding the liquor cupboard instead, not even interested in what type he grabbed.

‘You shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach.’ Chris admonished him as he drank half a bottle of what turned out to be vodka before he sat down.

Alcohol had very little effect on him anymore but all he required was that it make him slightly numb and it was working well enough to accomplish that. ‘Fuck you.’ He snapped, slumping into a chair and regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. ‘Sorry.’

‘It’s ok, I know you’re stressed out.’ Chris gave him a weak smile that he couldn’t find the will to return. ‘Al?’

He hadn’t even realised he’d put his head down on his arms, and he looked up to see Chris sliding him a plate.

‘Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened?’

‘A therapist?’ Albert shook his head. ‘They would’ve worked for Umbrella. Or reported back to them.’

‘The BSAA has some-’

‘As if I trust them any more than Umbrella.’ He stabbed at a piece of pancake, uninterested in eating.

‘I’m not trying to push you into anything you don’t want to do, but I’ve seen a lot of combat-related PTSD and therapy can really help.’ Chris sounded disgustingly earnest.

Albert almost laughed. ‘You’ve never been, have you?’

Chris grimaced. ‘No, too stubborn, I guess.’

He nodded, shoving his food around his plate apprehensively. ‘This isn’t, it’s not from combat.’

‘Yeah, I figured.’ Chris shoved a bite in his mouth. ‘You should try to eat something.’

Albert couldn’t, he had never been able to the day after throwing up. Instead he just drank more, the taste of the alcohol helping wash away his memories.

Chris watched him worriedly. ‘You said you’ve had panic attacks before? Is this always what it’s like afterwards?’

‘Only the bad ones.’ He glanced up to meet Chris’ eyes briefly. ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘It’s ok if you’re not. You don’t have to push yourself. I’ll call Jill, let her know we won’t be coming in.’ Chris finished eating, and started clearing the plates. ‘Do you want some coffee or are you trying to get drunk?’

Albert laughed shortly, giving the empty bottle a morose stare. ‘I can’t.’

‘Oh.’

He flicked a finger at the bottle, making it rock. ‘You don’t have to stay with me.’

Chris actually turned around to stare at him incredulously. ‘I’m not leaving you alone after last night.’

The surge of relief only made him feel more pathetic, but he was grateful that Chris was going to stay with him.

‘I love you.’ Chris reached out for the bottle and he caught Chris’ hand before he moved away.

‘I know.’ Albert sighed but didn’t pull back as Chris’ fingers brushed his cheek.

Chris leaned down to kiss him softly. ‘Tell me if you need anything, please? I don’t mind taking care of you.’

He nodded, knowing that Chris meant it.

‘You’re cold.’ Chris’ hand lingered on his face. ‘There’s a blanket on the couch.’

Albert found it, draping it over his shoulders and huddling into the warmth. Until Chris had mentioned it he hadn’t even felt cold but now he was freezing. He heard Chris talking to Jill, deliberately vague on details but she obviously didn’t press him because it didn’t take Chris long before he came in to sit next to Albert. ‘You ok?’

He nodded and Chris started fiddling with his phone. Albert rested his head on the arm of the couch and just watched him, the mundanity of what Chris was doing soothing. It helped ground him in the present, he was home, safe, with his lover, things he never would have imagined having but they were real and here, and all that pain was in the past.

Chris glanced at him once in a while as if checking on him and at some point put his phone down to slide closer, pressing their legs together when Albert didn’t object. He leaned back, stretching, running a hand through his hair before draping it across the back of the couch. ‘Mind if I watch TV?’

Albert shook his head. ‘Go ahead.’

Chris flipped through the channels, finally settling on a crime drama. ‘I know these are awful, but there’s not much on.’ Chris gave him an apologetic shrug then scowled at the TV. ‘As if a cop would ever do that.’

‘The science is even worse.’ Albert commented dryly, the conversation a welcome distraction. He shifted position to lean against Chris, pretending that he couldn’t see the show from where he had been, but he knew he wasn’t fooling either of them. Chris tentatively lowered his arm to Albert’s shoulders, tugging him closer when he didn’t object. He wasn’t sure how long they spent watching TV, the shows blending together in a haze. Chris was a warm, solid presence beside him, a physical reminder that he was safe and loved.

‘Are you falling asleep?’ Chris murmured.

Albert nodded, letting Chris guide him into the bedroom to collapse on the bed.

‘Do you want me to stay?’

‘Yes.’ He reached out as Chris slid in next to him, curling up against Chris’ reassuring warmth.

‘I love you.’

The years of defensive instincts he’d built to protect himself warred with the need to trust Chris, the urge to finally be able to tell someone what had happened to him. He tangled his fingers into Chris’ shirt, something compelling him to speak, to talk to the one person he knew wouldn’t use his pain against him. ‘When I was seventeen I was sent to the Umbrella training facility. You know I don’t have many memories from before that.’ Albert glanced up at Chris, seeing confusion and concern in his eyes at the apparently random topic. ‘One of the instructors there… he told me that he would have me expelled if I didn’t…’ He swallowed heavily, dropping his eyes from Chris’ face, barely able to say it but he’d come this far. ‘If I didn’t have sex with him.’

Chris inhaled sharply but fortunately didn’t speak. Albert wasn’t sure he’d have been able to continue if Chris had said anything and if he didn’t say this now he never would. ‘I was such an easy target, no family, nowhere else to go… I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t say no.’ Chris’ arms tightened around him but he kept quiet. ‘It went on for almost a year. He always hurt me… he didn’t have to, I was doing what he wanted…’

‘It wasn't your fault.’ Chris said, his tone caught between rage and sadness.

Albert looked up in surprise, not at the words but at how much hearing Chris say them meant to him. ‘I know that.’ A simple response for something that had taken him years to believe, to stop blaming himself for what had happened. ‘I know that he-’ He’d never said the word out loud and he forced it past gritted teeth. ‘He raped me.’ His throat closed up and he tried to fight back a sob, failing as the sound escaped him, and then he was crying uncontrollably into Chris’ chest. ‘Chris, he raped me.’

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ Chris murmured again, stroking his hair. Albert could barely breathe, choking on sobs as the pain overwhelmed him. Chris didn’t let him go even when he finally managed to stop crying, rubbing his back as he sniffled pathetically and took a few deep shuddering breaths. He couldn’t bear to look at Chris, not just out of shame but out of fear of seeing pity in his lover’s eyes.

‘If I hadn’t found out like this… would you ever have told me?’ Chris asked, his resigned tone implying he already knew the answer.

‘I don’t know.’ Albert shook his head for added emphasis.

‘I get it. I do. I can’t imagine what it must have been like. But if you want to talk about it…’ Chris trailed off at his lack of response.

He had never told anyone what had happened to him, Will had known but Will had been around while it was happening and even then he had never really talked about it. But he didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t have the strength to tell Chris every sordid little detail, and he doubted that Chris wanted to hear it anyway.

‘Al?’ Chris’ voice broke through his morose thoughts. ‘You know I love you, right? What you told me… it doesn’t change how I feel.’ Albert hadn’t consciously considered that but the tightness in his chest eased and he was horrified to realise that he was crying again. Bad enough that he already felt weak and pathetic, and crying only made him more exhausted. ‘Hey, c’mere.’ Chris hugged him, letting him sob into his shoulder. He hadn’t cried in years and now he couldn’t stop, clutching at Chris desperately.


	3. Chapter 3

Albert must have fallen asleep because at some point there was a knock on the door that startled him.

‘It’s ok.’ Chris soothed, hugging him until he stopped shaking, ignoring the continuing knocks.

‘Go get that, it’s fucking annoying.’ He finally complained. Chris eased himself out from under Albert to answer and he slumped over on his stomach without Chris’ support. It was apparently day, the sun trying to creep around the edges of the curtains and he closed his eyes, listening to the conversation in the other room.

‘Jill.’

‘Hey. I wanted to check on you, you sounded weird on the phone.’ The door clicked closed.

‘Yeah, I guess. I’m ok though.’

‘I brought you some food, I thought you might be sick or something.’ A bag rustled as if Jill was waving it around.

‘No, I’m ok.’ Chris sounded strained as their footsteps headed into the kitchen.

‘Where’s Wesker?’

‘He’s sleeping-’

‘At this time of day?’

‘He’s… not feeling well.’ Chris hedged.

Albert groaned and hauled himself out of the bed, still clutching the blanket he was wearing. He didn’t want Chris to have to deal with any awkward questions he didn’t know how to answer.

‘Can he even get sick?’ He heard Jill ask as he leaned against the doorframe into the kitchen.

‘No.’ Albert ran a hand through his hair without effect, the strands falling back over his face.

She raised her eyebrows. ‘You sure? You look like shit.’

‘Yeah.’ He hesitated before adding. ‘I had a panic attack.’

Jill’s skeptical expression faded into what seemed to be genuine concern. ‘Ok, that’s serious.’ It was oddly touching, though something in the way she looked at him made him wonder if she had already known. She had lived in close proximity to him for two years, not to mention the amount of time the STARS team had spent together. Jill glanced between them as Chris moved up to him. ‘Anything I can do to help?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘Ok. Call me if you need anything.’

Chris nodded, wrapping an arm around him to guide him out of Jill’s way as she headed for the door. ‘I will, thanks Jill.’ Chris helped him back over to sit on the couch.

Albert leaned against him, winding their fingers together restlessly. ‘Are you going to tell her?’

‘Of course not.’ Chris nuzzled his hair. ‘How could you even think that?’

‘She’s your partner.’

‘She’s my best friend.’ Chris corrected firmly. ‘And you’re my lover. I wouldn’t betray either of you, not even to each other.’

‘That makes sense.’ Albert agreed, nodding slowly, thinking of all the things about Will he had never shared with Chris.

‘You’ve been having nightmares since we found those old Umbrella files.’ Chris mused. ‘The yearbook?’

‘Yeah.’ He shivered at the reminder.

Chris put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. ‘You never told anyone.’

Albert shook his head, curling into Chris a bit more.

‘Do you know where he is now?’ There was a dark insistence in Chris’ voice.

‘People disappeared from the training facility sometimes. No one asked questions. When Umbrella suddenly decided to close it down the relocation was disorganised. More people vanished during the move.’ He didn’t know why he hesitated to state it outright but Chris easily understood what he wasn’t saying.

‘You killed him.’

‘Yeah.’ Albert had stolen a gun from the armoury, the chaos the perfect time to get rid of the man he hated. He’d been terrified as he pulled the trigger, but afterwards, when his rapist was dying at his feet, he’d felt powerful.

‘I didn’t think I’d ever say this to you, but I’m glad you killed him. What he did to you…’ Chris trailed off with a sigh. ‘I guess I get why you can be so cruel, when cruelty was all you ever knew from other people.’

‘I learned how to survive.’ And he’d learned how to enjoy being vicious, to be the one with the power to manipulate others.

‘I know a little something about that too. And I know how badly damaged trying to survive can leave someone.’

Albert studied Chris’ distant expression, realising what he must be talking about. A trace of guilt welled up in him, that he had been responsible for hurting the man who loved him. ‘I did that to you.’

Chris shook his head. ‘Umbrella hurt both of us. I don’t blame you anymore.’

The guilt was still there and despite himself he offered an apology. ‘Regardless, Chris, I’m… sorry.’

‘Thanks.’ Chris ran his fingers through Albert’s hair, smiling a little. ‘I know you don’t really mean it, but it matters that you even tried.’

Impulsively he kissed Chris, opening his mouth as Chris licked at his lips, letting him in. Chris sucked lightly on his tongue until he moaned, making Chris pull back abruptly. ‘Are you ok? Is this too much?’

‘Do you have any idea how few people have ever asked me that?’ He stared into Chris’ worried eyes. ‘Umbrella, Spencer… they just took what they wanted from me.’ Even after he thought he’d freed himself from them, had believed that he was smart and strong enough that he wasn’t being used anymore, it had turned out that he was still nothing more than Spencer’s experiment.

‘I’m sorry-’

‘Don’t be.’ Albert tilted his head in bitter amusement. ‘I like what I am. In their efforts to exploit me they unintentionally gave me the power to destroy them. I lived and they died. All of them.’

‘Good.’ Chris gave him an unexpectedly grim smile then kissed him again. ‘Feel up to eating yet? We could see what Jill brought over.’

 

They both returned to work the following day, needing the distraction. Albert went back to the labs to help figure out exactly what kind of BOWs they were dealing with, unwilling to risk another severe panic attack by continuing to sort through the old Umbrella artifacts. Resuming their normal routines over the next few days helped him regain his mental balance but the nightmares of being trapped and helpless still plagued him.

Albert stared at his reflection, his eyes too wide, hair messy, blood oozing from where he’d bitten through his lip. Despite the colour of his eyes he looked more like a scared teenager than an adult and he hated the reminder. Out of the corner of his vision he caught movement and he tensed until Chris came into view in the mirror. He held his breath as Chris came up behind him, relaxing as Chris simply hugged him, kissing his shoulder. Chris didn’t ask if he was okay, just held him, still kissing his back gently. He didn’t want to look at himself anymore, turning around in Chris’ arms.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’

Albert rested his forehead on Chris’ shoulder, feeling gentle fingers comb through his wet hair. He turned his head, Chris’ bare skin warm under his cheek. Chris’ heartbeat had sped up, he could hear it, and he licked the pulse point in Chris’ throat. Chris shuddered, pressing him harder against the counter. As much as the nightmare had upset him, he wasn’t afraid of Chris, and right now he wanted him. The feeling was mutual, Chris’ arousal obvious against his own. He bit lightly at Chris’ neck, soothing the sting with a kiss as fingers tangled in his hair. Chris panted, squeezing his ass through his pants.

‘Bed.’ Albert ordered, shoving Chris in that direction. Chris didn’t let go of him, turning as they reached the bed so the backs of Albert’s knees hit the edge of it. He fell backwards gracefully, catching a glimpse of Chris’ flushed cheeks and wild, dark hair before Chris was on top of him. Muscular thighs straddled his hips, hands on his shoulders, holding him down while Chris claimed his mouth again.

And then he pulled away suddenly, releasing Albert. ‘Sorry, shit.’

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, both from the kiss and from fear. ‘Do you- do you not want me anymore?’

Chris’ eyes widened. ‘Of course I do. I just don’t want to force you into-’

‘You don’t have to be so fucking noble all the time.’ Albert was both relieved and even more angry, sitting up to glare at Chris properly.

Chris frowned at him. ‘I don’t want to hurt you. The first time we had sex-’

‘I told you to fuck me.’ He corrected, already irritated at the direction the conversation was going.

‘I was rough-’

‘And I liked it.’ Albert shook his head to keep him from interrupting. ‘Chris, do you truly believe that anything that happened between us wasn’t completely consensual?’

‘No.’ Chris replied immediately, despite his earlier worries. ‘But you just had a nightmare and instead of comforting you I’m groping you.’

‘I started it.’ Albert reminded him, his annoyance fading as he realised that Chris really was concerned about him and he struggled to explain. ‘My nightmares… they’re not sexual, I’m just scared, and helpless. You don’t make me feel that way.’ He sprawled onto his back again. ‘Come here.’

Reluctantly, Chris climbed on top of him.

‘I want you.’ He dug his fingers into Chris’ thighs. ‘I need you.’

‘I love you.’ Chris bent over to kiss him. ‘Keep telling me what you want.’

‘I want you to fuck me.’ Albert rolled his eyes.

‘No, I mean, tell me what you want me to do.’ There was caution in Chris’ voice but a hint of a smile on his face.

It was Albert’s turn to frown, considering what he was saying. Usually he liked giving up control to Chris, letting him do whatever he wanted and just losing himself in the pleasure but maybe Chris was right about being careful. ‘Kiss me.’ It wasn’t a complicated order but he was curious to see how much initiative Chris would take.

Chris leaned over him, winding his fingers into his hair and gently tugging his head back. He opened his mouth, letting Chris kiss him deep and hard.

‘Clothes off.’ Albert demanded breathlessly.

Grinning, Chris stood up to strip then bent over him. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of Albert’s pants, drawing them slowly down his hips, brushing his fingers along Albert’s skin. The fabric rubbed his already hard cock and he shuddered, groaning quietly.

‘You’re beautiful.’

He narrowed his eyes at Chris, a smirk tugging at his lips. ‘I didn’t request flattery.’

‘Nah, you get it for free.’

Albert made a beckoning gesture with one finger and Chris obediently straddled him again. He arched up against Chris, pressing their cocks together, both of them moaning. ‘Kiss me.’ Chris braced his hands against his shoulders, holding him down, licking into his mouth eagerly. He gripped Chris’ thighs hard, moaning as Chris moved to kiss the hollow of his throat, traced a path up to his shoulder. ‘Chris.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I want your fingers inside me.’

Chris shifted off him, coming back to kneel between his spread legs. He put a heel on Chris’ shoulder as Chris wrapped an arm around his thigh, kissing his ankle. Slick fingers rubbed his rim, Chris teasing him with little pushes that didn’t quite slip inside him.

Albert bunched the sheets in his fist, whining softly as he glared at Chris, annoyed by the humour in his pretty blue eyes. ‘Chris.’ Those teasing fingers suddenly slid into him, the pleasurable stretch making him tense and exhale sharply.

‘You ok?’ Chris gave him a careful look, pausing in his movements.

‘Did I tell you to stop?’ He hissed back.

An almost wicked grin spread across Chris’ face. ‘No, you didn’t.’ And then Albert was whimpering, writhing, all his focus on the place inside him that Chris was touching. He could feel Chris holding his leg more tightly, his head falling back as he arched, crying out as he came dry, his aching cock wet against his stomach. Chris didn’t stop rubbing and Albert twisted his fingers into the sheets to keep from touching himself, letting Chris stroke him through another orgasm. Tears ran down his face as he whimpered uncontrollably, the pleasure building again as Chris kept going.

‘Fuck me.’ Albert gasped out, pleading more than commanding. The fingers left him, the loss making him whimper as much as the pleasure had. Chris met his eyes, wide in lust, his cheeks flushed as he panted, but he was gentle as he pushed Albert’s legs up to his chest. He didn’t think Chris had ever taken him so slowly, the steady slide of Chris’ cock against his rim unbearable. Albert threw his head back, digging his nails into Chris’ shoulders as his body stretched open. It felt so right, so perfect, and he moaned as Chris filled him completely. Chris kissed his bared throat, rocking into him gently in short little thrusts that made him gasp. ‘Chris.’

‘Tell me what you want.’

He whined, barely able to think past the pleasure, wrapping his legs around Chris’ hips.

‘Al, what do you want?’ Chris nipped the side of his neck.

‘You.’ He couldn’t speak, overwhelmed by having Chris inside him. Chris started to move faster, moaning against his shoulder, obviously needing him just as badly. He grabbed one of Chris’ hands, pushing it between them, shuddering as Chris stroked his cock. It finished him quickly, his body tensing and he felt Chris gasp, jerking against him a few times before collapsing on him. He didn’t mind, little tremors of pleasure still running through him as they kissed, panting in each other’s mouths.

‘You ok?’

‘Yeah.’ Albert sighed in contentment.

Chris rolled off him, and he followed to lie on his side, wanting to keep seeing Chris’ eyes. They were still close but not quite touching, Chris’ fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out, his brow furrowed. ‘Al, are you… happy? With me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Really?’

Despite Chris’ seriousness Albert couldn’t help smirking. ‘Thought you could tell when I’m lying.’

Chris scowled, obviously unhappy. It bothered Albert, he felt good after having sex and he didn’t understand why Chris was upset. He traced Chris’ features with his fingers as if he could find the reason there. ‘I chose you. I don’t regret it.’

‘But are you happy?’

‘Yes.’ He growled, gripping Chris’ hip hard, even as his tone softened. ‘Yes.’

‘I love you.’ Chris ran his fingers through Albert’s hair, then down his shoulder, pulling them together again.

Albert sighed softly as Chris kissed him, enjoying the feeling of his lover’s body against his own. He was happy, the past months with Chris better than entire years before them. If this was what Chris had meant when he promised to save him, then maybe, Albert decided, he didn’t mind it too much after all.

 

‘I got something for you.’ Chris pulled what looked like a picture frame out of the bag he was holding, handing it to Albert. ‘After what you told me, I wasn’t sure if you’d want it, but you looked so happy-’

The words faded into nonsense as Albert saw the picture. It was the one from the yearbook of him and Will, both of them grinning stupidly at whatever it was they were doing. He couldn’t even remember honestly but it didn’t really matter. They looked so young and innocent and despite what had happened to him that year the memories of the time he’d spent with Will were good ones. Albert didn’t have many pictures of himself either, especially not candid ones, and he was deeply touched that Chris had thought he would want it as a keepsake.

‘Al? Can you hear me?’

‘Yes.’ He glanced up into worried blue eyes.

‘Are you ok? Is it bringing up bad memories?’

‘No.’ Albert ran his fingers along the edges of the frame, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. ‘Thank you, Chris.’


End file.
